Pillow Talk
by Glorious Clio
Summary: Missing scene from "Husbanding England." Marian and Robin have an important discussion that's been a long time in coming. Rated T for adult themes.


Pillow Talk

Title: Pillow Talk

Rating: T for adult type themes

Summary: Robin and Marian have a heart to heart, getting to the same page in their early marriage. Missing scene from "Husbanding England." Maybe spoilers for 2x13, but AU.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This is pretty obvious, considering I would have never killed off a central character. Don't sue me, I have no money, being a broke college student, and I'm just messing with characters that the BBC obviously hates anyway. This is set during their honeymoon voyage, somewhere in the Mediterranean.

o0O0o

Marian was lying on her side, facing her husband on her left, the coarse blanket pulled up to preserve their modesty from the faint moonlight. Her head rested on his shoulder and her right arm embraced his chest. His own right arm encircled her, but his left was propping up his head. They were silent and lost in thought, neither quite willing, nor quite sure how to break the tension. Marian was getting anxious.

She hated when Robin was so quiet, even though she knew that it had become his way of working through whatever was bothering him. There were very many nights of quiet contemplation, the recent misadventure in the Holy Lands and the death of Allan-A-Dale had shaken him again. Marian had not realized until they left how much he suffered by the atrocities committed in the name of God. But she learned fairly quickly that pulling what was bothering Robin always helped him cope. Marian knew now that Robin tended to bury or run away from his feelings rather than dealing with them.

Which explained why he left her after his father, Earl Geoffrey, had died to go Crusading in the Holy Lands.

So this had become their routine now. Aimlessly wandering the deck of the _Nymue_ by day. Going to bed at night, only to be woken by his nightmares. Following this they would make love again, him seeking comfort in her arms. She knew she should probably feel used, but instead she felt that he was trying to distract her from talking to him. Perhaps not the most ideal honeymoon, but she was with him, which was a definite improvement on her voyage to Palestine.

Most times Marian could just confront him, and he would respond, either happily or not, but she always got a response. She was tired of this approach. So instead of being confrontational, she decided on the quiet and more comforting approach of a little foreplay, knowing that once she got Robin's attention, she could ask him anything she wanted.

Marian took her hand and began gently running her index finger, slowly and deliberately, over the nipple closest to her. When Robin did not respond, she shifted her weight so she could perform the same message of the other nipple. She was rewarded only with Robin's shifting position to accommodate her. Glancing up into his face, she saw that he was still staring quietly at the rough ceiling in their cramped cabin.

Sighing inwardly, she moved her hand to a place that she had previously feared to tread. Tracing her fingers as lightly as she could, Marian found the scar that was given to him by Guy of Gisbourne. A scar that was mirrored on her own body.

His body went rigid and Marian quickly pulled her hand away.

"I am sorry, I should not have-"

"No."

"'No,' what?" Marian asked.

Robin rolled onto his side to face her. His eyes met hers. "I just…"

Her brow furrowed in concern and confusion.

"Does it still hurt to touch?" she asked him.

"No, not physically. It is just… a constant reminder. Penance."

"Penance? For what?"

"For leaving Nottingham, Locksley…you."

"No, I think that is the guilt talking. Your penance was carried out for two years in the forest, robbing from the rich and giving to the poor."

Robin was silent considering her words.

"And you know, you did come back. And we are married now. I think that should be penance enough, to be married to me."

He chuckled.

"What did I do so wrong to end up with you?"

"Be careful, Locksley. You are treading on dangerous ground."

"Am I?"

"Indeed."

His eyes twinkled, he was never quite able to keep up with her in a battle of words. She grinned triumphantly. After their smiles faded, she spoke.

"So your comely scar is off limits?"

"Comely?" It was his turn for his brow to furrow in confusion.

"Yes. The scar you got being devastatingly brave and strong."

"You know, it could be considered a weakness to be wounded in battle."

"No, not when you are defending the king. I am sure of it. Chivalry and loyalty and all that."

"I suppose," he answered, trying to stop her train of thought.

"Suppose what?"

"That you may claim it, if you wish."

"I only want it if you agree it is comely, and not penance for your sins."

He was silent a few moments, considering what she said. Could she be right? Could the guilt he carried around be manipulating his self-worth? He gazed into her eyes and saw love, loyalty, and what could only be described as _trust_, staring back at him. Realization almost literally struck him in the face, leaving him shocked and a little exposed.

Yes, he ran away from her. Yes he had killed. Yes, he did things he regretted. But she forgave him. But the mere fact that he had regrets, that he felt he needed to do penance made him worthy of her love, even after all the mistakes he had made. Or would continue to make.

"Well, perhaps not comely. But perhaps not penance either."

Marian nodded in agreement with his compromise. She leaned in and claimed his scar with her lips. Robin's breath hitched, but his body relaxed almost as quickly, as if some of the guilt he had been carrying around fled his body entirely with the arrival of her cool lips.

Pulling back again, she smiled beautifully.

Robin kissed her and gathered her in his arms, pulling her as tightly to him as possible. Again they fell into a silence, but this time it was a compatible silence. However, Robin had something he wanted to ask her. Something he had wanted to ask for a few weeks now. Yet he did not want to offend her, or make her angry. Still, as long as they were being honest with each other, he felt as though the timing could not be much better to broach such a delicate subject.

"Marian?"

"Hmm?"

"I… I…." he trailed off weakly. She waited patiently. Something was obviously troubling him.

"I have… never, well, lain with a virgin before, but I have heard, at least I was told, that there should have been a… a stain. From your maidenhead. The first time."

Marian pulled out of the embrace.

"So you want to know who deflowered your wife before our wedding night?"

Robin watched her. "It is a valid concern!"

"What about you? There is no way of telling how many times you have lain with a woman. The Lord placed women at a severe disadvantage when he made us," she huffed.

"Marian, I am sorry. I just need to know. Was it Gisbourne? Or… someone else?"

She had pulled her arms away from him and crossed them in front of her breasts, though his arms were still loosely around her.

"It was you."

"Marian, forgive me, but I think I would have remembered lying with you before the Holy Land."

She hit him lightly, only a little angry, now. She remembered that had she married Guy, he would not have been so patient, nor would he have been long-suffering with the answer that Robin of Locksley had broken her hymen.

"That is because we did not lie together, as you so gently put it." She sighed, preparing herself for many questions. "Do you remember my first hunt?"

"Marian, what has this got to do with anything?"

"I asked if you remembered."

"Yes."

"Do you remember how stubborn I was, that I refused to ride with anyone?"

"And then you tried to stalk the stag riding side-saddle."

"Yes. Like I said, I was stubborn."

_The day sharp and cool, unusual for a day so late in June. Fifteen year old Marian was on her first hunt, trying to keep up with the rest of the hunting party. Her fiancé, Robin of Locksley, was an excellent huntsmen, and she was a good shot with a bow as well, but she was having trouble keeping up. _

_Her father had forbidden her from riding with her fiancé, deeming it too improper and Marian had outright refused to ride with her father, fearing he would slow her down. As it turned out, she would have been faster on the old horse. _

"_Locksley, wait for me!"_

_Robin reigned in his horse impatiently. Much lingered near them, granting the encounter with a chaperon to protect Maid Marian's reputation. _

"_We will never kill anything with you riding like that. Get down."_

"_My father has forbidden me from riding with you." Marian said, afraid for her first time for her virtue. _

"_I would never go against his wishes. Now get down."_

_Marian eyed Much through the brush, reassuring herself before alighting from the saddle. Robin quickly fiddled with the stirrups and demanded she get back up and this time, ride astride._

"_Like a man?" _

"_Well there is no one else around for you to ride with. Now do not argue or we will never get to the stag!"_

_She clamored up and adjusted her skirts as best she could, hiding what flesh she could from the green sunlight filtering through the leaves of Sherwood Forest. She could feel Robin's eyes linger on her calves while a blush crept over her cheeks. _

_Shaking himself out of his reverie, he climbed upon his own horse and rode off through the trees. "Hurry! I know a short cut."_

_Laughing, she heedlessly took off behind him. _

_Later, her father threatened to tan her hide for baring her legs like a common woman, especially in the presence of her betrothed. Marian countered him, saying that Robin would see more than her legs in a few months time. _

_She was locked in her chambers for her insolence. _

_There she came upon two unwelcome discoveries. Despite practically being raised in a saddle, she was for the first time chafed and sore from her exertions. This she immediately remedied by making a pair of soft linen breeches to wear under her skirts; she had no intention of riding side saddle again. _

_The second was a bloodstain on her undergarments that had nothing what so ever to do with her menses. She was now damaged goods. Marian quickly soaked the linens and the stain came out. But she knew that she could hardly undo what had been done._

"Why did you not tell me?" Robin asked once the story was told.

"I was going to, but then the next week, your father passed, and six days later you were gone."

Robin sighed. "I am sorry for-"

"Enough. You could not have known."

"What would you have told Guy? He would have demanded to know, too."

"I rather doubt that it would have mattered. He would have seen the wound that he gave me and realized I was the Nightwatchman. If I did not have my maidenhead, well, that would send me further to Hell in his eyes."

Robin sighed again, "I should have thought of a way out for you."

"Ancient history. I am married to you. Always have been, strictly speaking."

"Because I deflowered you, unintentionally?"

"Because I love you."

"And I, you. No more secrets?" he asked her.

The tension spiked again, and when she didn't answer, he moved his thumb slowly over her scar. It was her turn to go rigid at his touch.

"Djaq," she choked. Marian put her hand on his, stopping his thumb on her scar. "She told me that this wound may affect my ability to have children."

Robin looked deeply into her eyes. They were quickly pooling with tears. "Why did you not tell me?" he asked compassionately.

"I did not want it to spoil things. I thought perhaps, you would not want… a woman who could not have children. On top of being incomplete."

"Marian, Djaq does not know everything." He cupped her chin in his hand. Even if he did not believe the words he was saying, he felt compelled to say them. Djaq certainly had a greater knowledge of the human body than he did. "Nevertheless, I married you because I love you, not because I thought you would be someone to breed with. We are not horses."

A few tears slipped through her lashes. Robin quickly wiped them away so they would not stain her cheeks.

"And if I cannot have children?"

"I am sure that we can find someone else to inherit both Locksley and Knighton." He enveloped her in his arms, drawing her as close to him as possible.

She trembled. "I know, but… I just wanted them to be… ours."

"I confess, I was looking forward to having children, but this can be a good thing, too. I would be terrified to lose you in childbirth."

She sniffled, and nodded.

"Marian, you had better not be feeling inadequate. Because you are the most extraordinary woman I know. Who else can go to Council of Nobles meetings during the day and be the Nightwatchman at night? You almost single handedly ran Knighton, you managed to keep Gisbourne and Vaisey at arm's length. I could not be more proud of you, even if we cannot have children."

She nodded. They were quiet a long time, listening to the wind across the water. "Could we perhaps take one in? Not now, but in a few years?"

"If that is what you want, of course."

"Do you want children?"

Robin paused. Though the idea of children had always left him cold, Crusading in the Holy Lands had changed his mind. He wanted a son to carry on his name, his legacy, and his glory. Also the adventure in the forest with the baby, Seth, had shown him on how much he had missed out on by going Crusading. Seeing Marian hold the baby had touched him like nothing else. But did he want children? The responsibility and the worry that went along with them?

Either way, did he have a choice?

"Marian, my love. I will take whatever you can give me. If we are indeed childless, that is fine. If we have twelve children, we will find room for them all."

She snorted. "I would kick you out of bed long before we got to twelve."

He laughed with her. "I can imagine. No secrets there."

"No," she agreed.

"I am glad we talked tonight."

"Absolutely. Though these pillows leave something to be desired," Marian commented dryly. Robin rolled to his back, pulling her with him. He settled her head back on his shoulder. They were back where they started from.

But not quite. The ship had moved, after all, and they had had moved forward as well. The secrets they had been hiding from each other were out, and they were closer together for it. Things between them were more comfortable. Both felt a sense of peace and understanding as they drifted off into a shared dream.

o0O0o

Okay… a rather idealistic view of a medieval marriage. Or even a modern one, I confess. But it's what I want for them. Please leave a review; I would love to know your thoughts on the story.

-Glorious Clio


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